Bottega Veneta Eau de Parfum
Still warm under her trench coat, she runs. Lambskin heels on the wet pavement scattered in bright dead leaves. The sun is just starting to drop. She’s stayed too long this time. Her flushed cheeks might deceive her. The scent is heat that emanates from and close to the body. It comes in waves as she catches her breath. In gasps. Classic chrypre, sophistication from another time. Dried roses, warmth and roundness of a citrus blossom. An expensive edge, like a leather piping but mostly smooth and supple. Sweet almost. A sheen of perspiration. A little dangerous and a little dirty, but sophisticated and discrete to the end.